Sometimes in the mornings, I want to go to the Basilica's garden and smell the roses. And yet, I don't. But I realize the flowers are not waiting for me. They have a beautiful rich life all of their own. And I am the other.
When our souls need refreshing, come enjoy the roses in front of the Basilica. When my father was wheelchair bound, I would drive him by just for the sight and joy of the flowers. He would smile, both of us refreshed.
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